Song of Silence
by ex-McAbbyGirl
Summary: In which Valkyrie and Skulduggery keep in touch over the phone, songs are sang, and maybe, just maybe, silence is nothing more than a hooded blessing in disguise. Platonic Valduggery fluff. TDOTL epilogue challenge. Spoilers.


**A/N Fair warning, this is nothing fancy. It's simple, straight to the point, and exactly what I wanted it to be. :) Hope you enjoy reading it! **

**Disclaimer: I'm so eager to get this out, that I don't have time to stop and think up a clever way of saying I don't own Skulduggery Pleasant or any of the songs mentioned in this fic so just, you know, insert something funny here to make up for it. Like- like a knock knock joke. **

**Okay, okay, here's one:**

**Knock, knock**

**_Who's there?_**

**Doctor**

**;)**

**Too much? Too much. **

* * *

Valkyrie dropped her bags at her sides. The house was wooden, sturdy, and overwhelmingly quiet. Silence, she supposed, was just something she would have to deal with on this lonely trek of solitude. But it was burdening on her, blanketing her, wrapping her up in a suffocating embrace like some nightmare she couldn't shake herself awake from, and suddenly Valkyrie didn't know how she was going to do this. Her shaky legs folded beneath her and she crawled to one of the walls, propping herself up against it like a puppet with its strings cut. Taking a shallow breath, more of a gasp really, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and hit speed dial.

"Skulduggery, I don't think I can do this," Valkyrie blurted before he even had a chance to speak.

"Nobody is forcing you to." His voice was calm, tender almost. She hadn't heard it in a whopping 10 hours, and already she was grasping at its comfort like straws.

"No, I know, I know," she said, "but I _need_ to do this. I _have_ to. I just- I just…"

"You just what?"

"I need to know that this is going to be okay, and that I don't have to worry and…"

"And what?" Skulduggery prodded gently.

A tear streaked down her cheek, and Valkyrie sniffed, wholly aware of how small and pathetic she sounded when she whispered, "Can you sing me Hakuna Matata?"

* * *

She called him sobbing one night at 2am Colorado time, when every face she'd ever killed, Darquesse or otherwise, threatened to burst her heart within her chest. Her eyes would close and all she could see was her baby sister, lying dead on a table, and the guilt poured down her face in the form of blood where she'd raked her nails across her skin.

Once, on a particularly long road trip, they had put _My Boy Builds Coffins _on repeat and spent an hour analyzing the lyrics. It was a regular smorgasbord of psychosomatic morbidity, and Valkyrie remembered laughing about it until her sides hurt.

It didn't seem so funny now, but when Skulduggery sang it to her in low, crooning tones, the ache in her heart lifted somewhat.

* * *

Valkyrie leaned back against the couch, eyes closed, her phone cradled next to her ear. "Sing me that stupid song about the baby falling out of a tree."

Skulduggery gave a pondering pause. "Valkyrie, exactly what time is it over there?"

She squinted at the pool of light brimming from under her closed curtains. "Well, the sun's shining pretty brightly, so I'd guess mid afternoon?"

"And you want me to sing you a lullaby _now_?"

"Yeah. Do you have a problem with that? I mean, I could just pull up YouTube and miss out on the joy of hearing your wonderful voice, but—"

"No need," Skulduggery cut her off warmly. "I would never deprive you of that. It would be ungentlemanly of me." He cleared his throat majestically and began, "_Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop, when the wind blows the cradle will rock_…"

And Valkyrie Cain fell asleep for the first time in what felt like years.

* * *

"Hey, Skulduggery?"

"Yes, Valkyrie?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"It's the middle of July, dear. Call back when it's snowing."

* * *

_5 months later. _

"Help. I'm snowed in and the power's out and I haven't stockpiled any hot chocolate. I need endorphins ASAP or I'm going to start banging my head against the wall to see if that will get my blood flowing."

"Have you tried lighting a fire?"

"Don't have any matches."

"Why would you need…oh. Right."

"It takes getting used to, not being an Elemental anymore."

"I can imagine."

"But I know a song that might cheer me up."

"Oh?"

"A certain song about snowmen. And about building them."

"Ah, yes. I remember. It took several blows to my dignity to learn the lyrics, but I managed. Spectacularly, of course."

"Of course."

"Are you ready to hear it?"

"Yep."

"Are you sure?"

"I was born ready. That means I've been waiting twenty years for this. Get a move on."

"Alright, if you're positive."

"…"

"Here goes, then. _Do you want to build a snowman_…"

It had been, truthfully, a lovely duet.

* * *

And then there was that night she got Xena, and Valkyrie had serenaded _him_ for a change with a rather howled version of _You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog_.

It was never talked about again.

* * *

"So I was watching TV the other day—"

"Rotting your brains away."

"—yes, and would you believe it, _Grease _of all things came on, and I was thinking—"

_Click_.

* * *

"Hey Skulduggery, have you ever heard the song _Home_ by Goo Goo Dolls?" Valkyrie asked, the phone held close to her lips.

"I'm sorry, _Goo Goo_ Dolls?" Skulduggery repeated incredulously.

"Yes. Goo Goo Dolls. You should go listen to it."

"I refuse to listen to a song by a band with such a ridiculous name."

"It'll be worth your while, trust me."

"But why would I-"

Valkyrie hung up abruptly, the smile on her face denouncing her fear that her lips were permanently weighed down by sorrow.

* * *

When the door opened and she saw Skulduggery standing there, Valkyrie honestly thought she would've said something. Nothing intellectually profound, sure, but still _something_. A cry, a shout, a blubber, but the noises died a transitory death on her tongue, and Valkyrie found herself tackling him, hugging him, grabbing fistfuls of his suit in an attempt to pull him closer, and he was holding her tightly like she wasn't the heart of glass she was afraid she'd become these past five years (so breakable, so weak) but a lover and a warrior and a pillar of strength.

Neither of them said a word, and the silence was the most beautiful thing Valkyrie had heard her entire life.


End file.
